Page 60 of Unholy Masks

“Well. It’s your choice, obviously. But I know you’ll regret it.”

I started walking back toward the car.

“You’re right. Let’s go find Irene. One last time.”

One last time. It felt so final. But that was all the fight I had left in me.

Enzo opened the door on the third knock.

This was my first time at his house. It looked to be in disarray. Dark and gloomy. And very much like Enzo.

“Doctor Death. How’ve you been?”

“You know. Not good.”

“What brings you—” He glanced at Ryden. “Oh. Irene’s inside.”

I took a deep breath, and walked in.

She was sitting at the dining table, a psychology textbook open in front of her, probably studying for school.

“Enzo, who is—” She looked up. She blinked once. “Yara. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d leave you alone,” I said. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “That’s what you wanted. And maybe that’s for the best. If the Strangler knows we’re not... you know, maybe you’ll be fine.” I held out the yellow roses. “These are for you. I didn’t buy them. Ryden did.”

She took them without a word. Her fingers curled around the stems like she didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Or maybe you’ll still be in danger,” I added quickly, before she could tell me to shut the fuck up. “I just—I feel like shit, Irene. Yesterday, Ryden and I killed a rapist, and then Ryden asked me to marry him. While we were cutting his cock off, and I had no one to tell that about. He has Enzo. I have no one.”

Her eyes widened.

“I bought a new murder mystery, but it’s boring to read without discussing theories with you. Nothing is the same.”

Irene’s lips twitched. A small smile.

Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.

“He asked you to marry him in the middle of a murder?” she said, shaking her head. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“A lot, probably. He’s still with me.”

“Did he at least buy you a ring?”

“Nope. But he did have a thumbscrew, so… you know.”

We both laughed. It was a little broken. Then she shook her head, and I felt the heavy stone pushing against my chest break.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn’t… I—it’s not your fault, Yara. None of it was. I shouldn’t have—”

She sniffled, shook her head again.

“I understand,” I said.

I did. More than she would know.

“You shouldn’t go easy on me. I was so fucking wrong. I was angry and confused, and everything that has been happening, it was… it is too much, Yara. All of this, and then I thought about dying without ever talking to you, and that’s even more horrible.” Her fingers pulled at the edge of her sleeve. “I don’t want to die like that.”

“You’re not dying, Re-Irene. I won’t lose you, either. Never.”